Combined Silence
by Shadow over Egypt
Summary: To take a mortal’s life is considered a great sin. To take a god’s, and to hold it, is a crime beyond all reckoning, and one’s soul will most definitely pay the price. But…what if one is incapable of losing a soul – what then?
1. Chapter I

**Hikari:** What's up my fellow YGO lovers? Well, the lovely Shadow and I have decided to collaborate on an amazing story whose plot she came up with. _(laughs)_ She'll be updating, but we'll both be writing. Also don't forget to check out our numerous other works, and the new fics we're both planning on updating… eventually. Shadow, care you a say?

**Shadow: **'Kariagreed to write this me, and I'm forever thankful. I've too many plot bunnies to deal with right now, and I've placed myself under severe order that I'm not allowed to work with 'em until at _least_ get some of my other fics sorted out. So…there's that. As Hikari said, both of us are writing this, and I'm quite pleased at how well our styles fit together. (Dare you to spot who wrote what.) Anyways, I'm off, and a cheery good morning – to those at least _vaguely _in or near the Greenwich time zone – to you all.

**Summary:** To take a mortal's life is considered a great sin. To take a god's, and to hold it, is a crime beyond all reckoning, and one's soul will most definitely pay the price. But…what if one is incapable of losing a soul – what then?

In the beginning, there was Darkness, and from darkness light and reason rose, as well as those who would oppose it… The balance of power is forever changing, and resentment towards those that divide it is often rife. It never takes much for one to decide to readdress the balance, and for cunning minds to take advantage of the gods having turned their back on Man. If the gods did not smile on mortals…who would?

Yet…_he_ would not be placated. _He_, who ruled over his Realm of Nothingness, one-twelfth of the night, wanted more. The Darkness ruled his realm with a tighter grip than _he_, and _he _wanted to feel a flicker of something he once called emotion

And so he took the One of Shadows, the true eternal ruler. And somebody wants him back.

**Disclaimer:** Shadow over Egypt and Hikari Daeron do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or anything related to the anime/manga – that is the right of its creator, Kazuki Takahashi. Nor do they own Lord of the Rings, or any obscure reference to any other story. They also do not own the Egyptian deities, although the antagonist in this story is theirs. They exclusively own the plot of this piece. And any resemblance to another fanfiction is purely coincidental.

**Hikari:** And now without further ado…

* * *

**Combined Silence**

**Chapter I**

_"Fell deeds await... Now for wrath... Now for ruin... and a red dawn..." _

_(Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers)_

_In the beginning there was Darkness, and this darkness was the darkness of Nun. From Nun rose reason, the Hidden One rising from chaos to bring order and life to the shadows. Thus the world was created by the Great One's will, and was given to His divine descendants to care for, its people to watch over and protect._

_The people prayed to the ones who cared for them, and the gods were benevolent. Nations flourished and grew, and the people of the earth spread across ta-mery, their blessed land. They were guided by their gods from their births till their deaths, and upon reaching the West, taken by the hand and led through Duat's grim darkness to the light of Aalu – Osiris' kingdom-, where the pure of heart would dwell forevermore. _

_As time passed though, nations crumbled. The gods seemed to fade away and abandon the world, and Nun stole across ta-mery's sands and into the hearts of men. Shadows grew, and men meddled where they should not have. Monsters rose at the beckoning of reckless souls, and war and rebellion raged. Eons later, I truly fail to see what is so different now. _

_The world is…a rotten place. It is full of chaos, and darkness, and deceit. Men lie to one another; they shoot, and hurt, and kill. But…there is light on earth. Hope, in the hearts of small children; faith, in sweet prayers uttered by the pure. Justice is grappled with and fought for, and the innocent are protected as best as can be by many. People are slowly, oh so slowly, realising what corruption they live in, and are striving for a better place. Like the Great One before them, they try to pull order from chaos and light from gloom. _

_Ah... the dawn approaches. A vague feeling of anticipation rests on this barren soil, which will be ground eternally into the mud – ruined. It feels as if it has been such a long time since I saw a _real _dawn... since I sat upon my window's edge and stared out into the everlasting oblivion of the universe. This dawn, however realistic it seems, cannot be real. The ever-dancing multitudes of colour that flicker upon its tendrils cannot exist, just as the radiant brilliance it brings cannot be justified. If it were real, then everything I know to be true would fade away into nothingness, a figment of past and imagination. _

_But perhaps it was for the best. After all, had I not chosen this fate, the world would have collapsed into ash, turned into bite-sized rubble of despair. For the pure, I could not let that happen. Besides, is it not better this way? The entire land is mine to roam –though I am guarded constantly, of course-, and I bring strange happiness wherever I go. The others are shielded away from the aura of destruction I tend to carry with me constantly; they are no longer in any danger from the numerous madmen that seem to stalk my footsteps, nor any other evil that scours the earth. They cannot be harmed by my lack of knowledge, of understanding; they will no longer be dragged into a whirlwind mess of pain and terror. If I am secluded from them, and the rest of the world, perhaps they can finally be at ease. They deserve it – I have pained them far too long._

_Yet...I cannot help but be unhappy here. There is no soul, no heart in this place. The Heart of the Cards that beats so strongly with mine is nonexistent. The spirits that guarded me and those nearest to me have disappeared, snatched cruelly away from my out-grasped hands. I cannot touch the Shadows, nor reach out to the Millennium Item holders. My partner has been taken from me, and my soul feels empty without him by my side. Perhaps worst of all, I cannot _see _anything. This land... yes, it is true that my presence has brought light upon it, allowed it to blossom and grow... yet I cannot _see_. It is not easy to explain. When I stare at something, I see it, and yet I do not. It is like a hologram that Kaiba was unable to perfect, flickering in and out of my psyche. Should I stretch my hand out to touch it, it will no doubt crumble to grey ash on my fingertips. Occasionally this provides some mild form of entertainment, but it is so weak that it lasts for mere moments. And when these mirages disappear? I am left wandering a barren wasteland, a place of lost innocence and a fool's fears. Once upon a time, perhaps, there was love and true beauty that blossomed within these confines, but it has long since died out. And if I am the only true life in this world, then how am _I _to live up to what I was born to? I, too, have a purpose – yet trapped in this desolate land, how can I fulfil it, live the remainder of my unnatural life to its fullest?_

_There was no other way. I know this, and so I can only tell myself what I did was for the best. Cold comfort in an even colder land, where even the fire of the dawn fails to warm my chilled soul. What I did was for the best, for the greater good. Yet…this darkness about me refuses to dispel right now. The sun here should rise presently, and I shall __have__ to place my doubts once more to the side, lest I drive myself mad. But right now…before dawn, I can allow the darkness outside to reflect the darkness within. I can let my shadows gather, because it is always darkest before dawn, wherever you are. _

_It is always the darkest before the dawn, and _this _dawn is never real..._

* * *

A good three months before the entire Millennium World fiasco, not long after the mess in America with DOMA and Kaiba's grand Championship, Yami Bakura, the spirit whose soul inhabited Ryou Bakura's Millennium Ring, 'died' – _again._ Even by that point it was becoming quite a habit – the yami had died twice before in front of Yugi-tachi's eyes, and he must've suffered _some_ form of death to end up trapped in the Ring in the first place. (Joey once remarked that the Spirit of the Ring was rather like this malicious, perpetual boomerang – he always came back. Yami had whole-heartedly agreed with the blonde, but his metaphor for the thief had been more along the lines of an annoying piece of chewing gum that got stuck to your shoe – Yugi had recently introduced the pharaoh to the stuff about that time, and Yami had quickly discovered the annoyance of said sticky stuff being attached to the heel of your footwear.) 

But yes. That was the summer in which Yami Bakura – or simply Bakura, as he had come to be known – left them all for the nth time. It was a long, lazy summer, slowly blending in with autumn in hot golden days that seemed to stretch on into forever. The trials of America were behind Yugi and his group of friends, and they were all determined to have some fun – and actually play some games that didn't involve the potential loss of lives, souls or Items. Everyone had plans.

Téa was working extra hard at her part-time job, and had earned herself a pay rise. She still had ambitions to go to New York and study dance after she'd finished high school, and summer was a great time for her to build up cash.

Yugi was using his time to help his grandpa out in the game shop. Solomon Mouto appreciated the help, and business - for a small store – was booming. Things got even better when Joey came around as usual to help, and both he and Yugi wandered about Domino when they weren't working. Yami, inside the Puzzle about Yugi's neck, was quite content with life about that time, and set about using his summer to rebuild relations with his hikari.

Joey came over to the game store nearly every day to help Yugi and Yugi's grandpa. It was a usual summer thing benefited both sides: - Joey kept out of the way of his alcoholic father (not to mention getting free food off Yugi's jii-chan while he was there), and Solomon gained some extra help around the shop. Joey was either out with Yugi or Tristan when he wasn't working, or both of them, or the entire group when someone succeeded in coaxing Ryou along.

Ryou tried to keep himself very much to himself, when he could. It wasn't that he didn't like Yugi, Joey, Tristan and Téa – actually, quite the opposite was true -, it was just…well, _Bakura._ The former thief couldn't be trusted anywhere _near _Yugi and his friends, even _if_ he had been rather quiet ever since Battle City. He was still _there_ – Ryou could feel him.

Bakura, to spite his hikari, was quite close enough to Yugi's little group – at its very heart, so to speak. Ever since he'd placed a piece of his soul within it the Millennium Puzzle had been his to roam, and Bakura was planning on making full use of his time to explore the pharaoh's labyrinth of a mind. No-one knew of his illicit wanderings in the pharaoh's Puzzle, and who was he to waste such a golden opportunity? Tristan had gotten himself a summer job at the local garage. He enjoyed his work there, and they did free maintenance on his mini-scooter. It was a win-win situation – plus, he thought he looked rather fit in his overalls. Maybe…if he built up some more impressive muscles…he could attract Serenity?

Marik was in Domino for a few weeks. He was really most reluctant to be there, considering the mayhem he'd caused _last_ time he was on Japanese soil, but Ishizu had needed someone she could trust to supervise the delivery of some exhibits to Egypt from the local museum. It sucked, as Marik had been planning on tinkering with his motorbike some more, but it was for his sister so… Damn, he had to be getting soft.

Kaiba and his little brother were still in America. Kaibaland was up and running smoothly now the Von Schroeders were out of the way, and Kaiba merely had a few last minute meetings to attend to check everything would _continue_ to run that well after he returned to Japan. He'd still keep in close contact with the park of course via phone and email, but the majority of the work for once would be relying upon an employee – Kaiba himself was rather surprised at this, unused to giving an underling of his such responsibility, but Mokuba had begged for it – pleaded – and when Kaiba had continued to be stubborn, set his foot down with all the authority of a vice-president and _demanded_ Seto think logically about his decisions. Seto had faltered then…and Mokuba had thrown in his large puppy-eyes as well, and his older brother had caved. Grumbling, Kaiba had offered one of his more trusted American employees a promotion to Head of the Park, and then withdrew to go scare some more poor unsuspecting souls in the boardrooms of America. Really…the poor dears never knew what hit them.

Oddly enough… everything was peaceful. Finally, after years of trials and torment, this group of friends were living a fun, carefree, _normal _summer. They hadn't been real teenagers for so long… now, at long last, seemed the perfect opportunity to fully exploit the meaning of the word "adolescent" (even if Kaiba _did_ own a multinational corporation – somehow Mokuba convinced him that he could be a CEO and _occasionally_ enjoy himself outside work too). Joey and Tristan were fully aware of their position as male teenagers, and would exploit this fact, even as Téa grew indignant and Yugi embarrassed. Yami, of course, looked upon their forms of entertainment with confused eyes. Needless to say, the day he learned the definition of _pornography_ – with visual aid, of course – was an interesting day indeed.

Everything was finally as it should have been. No monsters, no villains, no desperate desire to save the world and rid mankind of a new form of evil. No Egyptian legends, no age-old rivalries (besides the usual Yami-Kaiba fights), no ancient hatreds resurrected in order to destroy the Pharaoh and his friends. Shadi was quiet, wherever he was, and Ishizu didn't have the urge to bow and say, "My Pharaoh" every time Yami passed – partially because she was on another continent at the time but, whatever. Yami didn't bother Kaiba about magic, and Kaiba didn't bother Yugi or Yami about their Egyptian God Cards or their duelling title (outside a few "_I _should be King of Games, you amateur!"). Even Téa, usually the most curious and perceptive of the group when it came to Pharaoh, was quiet about her feelings and questions. And of course, Joey and Tristan still continued to devour anything in sight. Everything was… normal.

Pity it wasn't to last.

* * *

**Hikari:** T'ra! We worked hard on this one. Hope you liked it! 


	2. Chapter II

**Hikari:** Hola! Here's the next chapter of the crazy fic by me n' Shadow. Dare you guess who wrote what? Trust me, you might not like the answer… haha! I kid. Anywhoosle, I can't think of anything else to say except that I will never remember our bad guy's name. Like, ever. He will always, in my heart, be BG. And that I really liked the new HP. Well Shadow darling, take it away.

**Shadow:** Lateness of the update – tho' it's not really all that late by my abysmal standards – is pretty much all my fault, as I spent forever and a day trying to think it up how I wanted to word stuff. And yelling at my PC for not booting up. And making myself a LJ (I'm rather proud of that one). And just generally procrastinating. …You get the picture.

**_Disclaimer:_** Shadow over Egypt and Hikari Daeron do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or anything related to the anime/manga – that is the right of its creator, Kazuki Takahashi. Nor do they own any of Shakespeare's works, or any obscure reference to any other story. They also do not own the Egyptian deities, although the antagonist in this story is theirs. They exclusively own the plot of this piece. And any resemblance to another fanfiction is purely coincidental.

**_Notes:_** Time-wise, this fic is set in-between _Waking the Dragons_ and _Dawn of the Duel_. (The DOOM arc and the Millennium World arc.) Everyone is back home in Japan – except Kaiba and Mokuba, and they'll be dealt with accordingly -, and Pharaoh doesn't know his true name yet. Bakura's still happily sneaking around the Puzzle.

This isn't yaoi or shonen-ai – in fact, as this is a 'canon' piece; there aren't really any pairings at all. There might be hints though, based upon either the show or just the authoresses' strange imaginations

_

* * *

_

**Combined Silence**

**Chapter II **

_'Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.'_

_(Macbeth, scene 4, act iii)_

_Have you ever stolen outside not long after daybreak, when the sun is just barely above the horizon? Have you ever been awake at that point, when the birds are singing their chorus to the new day, and simply watched the sky in awe? Golden-tipped clouds float across the vast expanse above you, bright fire and shadows mixing and mingling in a glorious tribute to life, to balance, to all that is sweet and right in the world. There is no one to disturb it, no one to snatch it away because my God it is _everywhere_. It is for anyone to stare at, awed by its brilliance. It is for anyone to call their own, even though deep down inside they know it is not something that can be owned. Yet… we are content, to know that it is there, that its splendour is for us all to admire._

_It is very beautiful, I admit. I miss it here, where the gold is removed, where the shadows linger, and there is no sight of the blessed sun to be seen. Where I live now, I am caught in the half-light, the grey light, and the brightest colour I can see is the red, deep red, of my blood when I catch myself on the sharp edges of some unidentifiable object. And, surprisingly, it is possible in this place, and it has happened._

_The colour of my own blood _startled_ me when I first caught sight of it here. It was so very, very bright compared to the dull floor it dripped upon, so vibrant against the cloth of my robes it soaked into. The gash – it was up my arm – stood out starkly against my skin, and I could only stare at it in abject fascination, sheer astonishment taking away any sting. Is this how the others felt in my presence, in this desolate land? Did they too, stare, every time the brightness that I bring catches their attention? Do they, too, gape in horrid fascination when I walk past them, because suddenly a burst of colour flashes before them?_

_The shattering of glass took me from my distraction eventually. A…I am not sure what to call them…a _servant_, I suppose, was staring at me, even as I lifted my head from my scratch – albeit a deep one – to stare at it in return. Large, liquid eyes caught mine before the other bowed its head from my gaze and scuttled off, footsteps barely louder than crackling leaves. It was both reluctant and terrified as it left – my blood clearly fascinated more than just myself. I almost expected a summons, so that the personage that first bound me here could gawk at me also – but no. He clearly had other amusements for a while. A blessing, or a curse?_

_Is it odd to both loathe someone's company, yet be afraid to leave it? I _hate _being another's toy, a doll to be brought out and admired on special occasions, and then locked away in a cell of opulence and finery in a bid to fool me that here I am a 'guest'. Foolish dreamer…you know I scorn you. You know that when you look at me, desire lacing your gaze, I glare back with only the deepest loathing in my bones. You know I hate you and if there was just a way –_

_But there is not._

_I am trapped here at the whims of another, to please the other, and I dare not leave for chaos will fall in my wake and spread its poisonous wings out to those I love and care for. It is not a question of whether or not it will happen. It will happen, like it did before…_

_My resistance was punished. I knew it was coming but still – I…I _hoped _then. I crossed my fingers and prayed that everything would work out. Deep down, I wanted my future captor to be "good", to see the errors of his ways. I stayed up at nights, if only to watch when his rule came, and wished that he would suddenly change his mind. There was hope, and…and things began to go wrong. Clouds gathered on the horizon; thick, murky shapes that stained the sun and blotted out the moon. Inky darkness spread from east to west, and stinging rain fell from above. The ground heaved beneath mortals' feet, and the seas turned rough. Cliffs eroded, falling in slides that swept away trees, homes, lives. Dormant mountains erupted, and Geb's shivering razed whole nations to the ground. Hungry waves ate at land's shores, and lightning flashed and flared. The gods abandoned us - helpless? - and the Earth fell into chaos. And it was all because of_ me.

_

* * *

_

Seto Kaiba couldn't shake the feeling that some_where_, some_how_, some_thing_ was terribly wrong.

Usually the CEO rose with the dawn, if only to be shielded from the horrors of night. Although he hated mornings, Kaiba could not bear to wake later than six. So, when one day he found himself awake at ten, staring up at his ceiling and counting the tiles – he was on three-hundred and eighty seven when he realized what he was doing – he knew something was _dread_fully wrong.

Kaiba stood, silver silk pyjamas shuffling gently to fit his frame. He walked over to his balcony door and opened it, allowing the fully-overhead sun to warm his body. He leaned across the railing, resting his upper body on it while looking down at the busy streets below. Beneath him, American life seemed in full swing – traffic was zooming along in the road, horns honking and beeping, and the pavements were thronging with people. Everything _seemed_ fine and so Kaiba kept trying to deny the sense that something was wrong, all the while knowing deep down that everything was not okay.

Thunder rumbled. Startled, Kaiba looked up and was surprised to see dark storm clouds on the horizon. With the sun glaring at him moments before, he had assumed it was a cloudless day. Troubled, he returned to his room and started to dress. He journeyed into the kitchen of his apartment to gratefully find his staff had left him a fresh pot of coffee. Three cups later and a piece of toast – distastefully chosen – Seto Kaiba, CEO, _was _human (although a certain blonde would beg to differ). He left the apartment, taking the elevator down to the garage so many floors below, and got into his car. He had a meeting later that day – in an hour or so -, and he was more than a little surprised someone hadn't called him yet to enquire of his location. His personal secretary was notorious for that – she was a brave woman, really -, and apparently lived to badger the life out of him. Mokuba had hired her (why Kaiba had let his little brother loose upon the employees that one time was _beyond_ him), and so it wasn't that difficult to assume the two were in a cohesion of some sort against him.

It seemed like a typical day, except Kaiba knew it wasn't. He had woken up hours later than even his latest time, and the weather… he tried to put it out of his mind as he drove to the offices he'd been meeting in that day. _Besides_, he told himself, _it's none of my concern. My body was tired, and it shut down on me. The weather is normal. Nothing is wrong._

Even the great Seto Kaiba could be wrong at times.

* * *

Perhaps it was for the best that it happened.

In any case, life certainly became… um, _interesting,_ after it did.

It was quite simple, really. Seto Kaiba was driving to work when he turned on the radio to check the weather. (Despite his inner berating that everything was _fine_, he wanted something to tell him that he was right.) As he listened to the report, he got more and more concerned, because it declared that around the _world _the forecast was bad. Places where there had never been a single snowflake unexpectedly had _blizzards_; a few considered-dormant volcanoes in Eurasia were suddenly showing worrying signs of high activity and a few towns had been evacuated as a precaution; there were unusually high winds across pretty much all of America even for hurricane season; everywhere seemed to be flooding, and Japan – in particular the part of Japan that was his _home_ - was about to be attacked by the worst thunder-and-lightening storm in recorded history.

There was only one word to describe his reaction: _shit._

It…he'd been around Mouto and his rag-tag crew of brain-dead idiots too long. It was preposterous for him to even be _considering _something was wrong – it was just a bit of bad weather; that was all. In a few days the 'well-renowned scientists' would probably be harping on about the changing climate and global warming again, and life would settle back into its everyday routine. As for now – well, he was going to get a bit wet. But he was Seto Kaiba; he wasn't going to let a little bit of _rain_ stop him.

The thunderclouds of earlier had opened above the city skyline with a growl, forked lightning dashing down – nearby? The rain was coming down in sheets so it was rather hard to see; Kaiba's windscreen wipers were already pushed to the limit. The radio had gone quiet, only a low-level hissing and a few garbled words obvious in the crackle of white noise, but the silence inside the car only enhanced the sound outside – thunder and lightning were practically in unison, so the storm had to be directly overhead.

Kaiba parked his car, getting out and finding himself drenched almost immediately. The wind whipped the rain against his face with stinging force, and his sodden hair slapped his cheeks rather unpleasantly, even as his traditional long trench-coat got tangled up with his limbs. The dratted storm continued to rumble and seethe in the sky above him, so loud it was almost deafening, but still – Kaiba was determined to work, soaking wet or not.

That is, until someone twenty feet away from him was struck by lightening and fried to a crisp.

He wasn't really aware that was what had happened, at first. There had simply been a blinding flash, so bright it seared the eyes and turned the whole world to dazzling white, and a clap of thunder so terrifyingly loud it echoed in the marrow of his bones. Heat blazed past him, every hair on his body standing up, prickling uncomfortably. Even when the glare had faded ozone lingered in the air, a bitter tang of metal and electricity the still had his nerves twitching, his muscles shuddering slightly. The rain still fell, a deluge that never once faded, and it cleaned the air so all that could be smelled was _burned meat?_ Kaiba twisted, looking for the source of such a strange odour out in the middle of a thunderstorm –

And flinched, taking a step backwards away from the smoking corpse barely ten metres away from him. The charred remnants of some poor soul were steaming slightly in the cold, the body's skin raw red and black, peeled back and cracked. The face was unidentifiable and genderless, whatever clothes the person had been wearing simply burned away.

Already, a horrified crowd was forming around the corpse, a few people nearby dashing away to a bin to throw up the contents of their stomachs. Kaiba himself was frozen rigid, every part of him sickened and appalledby the instantaneous death that had just took place. But then survival and brotherly instincts kicked in, and he realized two things.

One: if he kept standing here in the middle of such a horrible storm, however unlikely the lightning would strike the same place more than once, he was in danger. And two: that his little brother could also possibly be in the same sort of situation, and said little brother was not near enough for him to easily protect.

Okay, perhaps it was three things, but Kaiba didn't have time for technicalities. He dashed back to his car and revved it up, determined to get Mokuba, even if it meant "kidnapping" him from school. (Mokuba had been enrolled in one the moment they'd set foot in America, much to the raven-haired boy's annoyance.) Something inside him made the connection that his car was safe due to the frame of his car, which, according to Michael Faraday, would show the electrons in lightening a lovely path into the ground and away from the people inside of the car. Of course, the car would be ruined in the process, but that wasn't on Kaiba's top priorities.

He made Mokuba's school in record time and dashed in, to the astonishment of the lingering staff. (One secretary had the gall to chase him for a little while, crying something about 'visitor badges', but she soon gave up after it became clear Kaiba wasn't at all interested in pinning one of the brightly coloured pieces of plastic she was rattling around in a tin box to the lapel of his coat.) He ran into Mokuba's classroom, picked up his brother unceremoniously, and proceeded to run back to the car. (Needless to say, it left everyone speechless for a while.) Mokuba spluttered for a bit, before falling silent as they drove, knowing it was not for any reason that his brother acted so oddly.

Only when they were safely in their own home did Kaiba somewhat relax. He was still wary, and not even over his dead body would he let his guard down, but he knew that he and Mokuba would be safe inside their apartment. Then he decided to call his various employees and command everyone to either stay inside (where they could), or, if they were outside and heading somewhere, get home _immediately._ (Also, helicopters and jets were strictly forbidden at this time.) Only then, and rather reluctantly at that, did he call Yugi Mouto to make sure that he was alright – after all, if Japan's storm had been _anything _like the one here… (He claimed that it was on Mokuba's orders – partially true – and inwardly he assured himself that it was because he wouldn't want to see his rival dead before he took his title. Yugi appreciated the gesture nonetheless.)

Now, he was left to wait in torment, secretly dying to find out what was happening…

When he did, he was _not_ happy.

* * *

Yugi-tachi was _wet_. Extremely so, to the point that their shoes squelched with water and their socks and underclothing were sticking to their skin. It wasn't a pleasant experience.

"Gross," complained Téa as she sat on the Mouto's couch, huddled in a towel. "I feel absolutely _disgusting_."

"Well, think of it this way Téa," said Joey, equally wet yet content enough to be peeling a banana. "We could be dry and dirty, or wet and clean."

"Wow, what logic," said Tristan dryly, taking half of Joey's banana and stuffing it in his mouth. Joey immediately tackled him.

"Hey, hey, hey, knock it out guys," said Yugi from the hallway. He was about to answer a ringing telephone. "Someone's calling."

"If it's anyone we know, speaker-tize it," said Joey, stretching out on the chair and finishing his banana.

"10-4." Yugi grabbed the phone before it could go to voice mail. "Mouto residence."

_"Yugi?"_

"Kaiba?!" Yugi was startled.

"Kaiba? What the hell is he doing calling here?" mused Tristan, who had grabbed an apple and was about to bite into it. "I thought he was in the US, anyway."

Téa nodded. "He is… Mokuba said they were due home in about a week or so though, I think."

"Hold on, I'll put you on speaker…" Yugi pressed the appropriate button on his phone. "Alright, there. What's up? You're not calling to duel again, are you? Cause we've already gone over this plenty of times…"

_"No, I'm not."_ Kaiba's voice resonated in the room. "Must _I be on speaker?"_

"Yeah Kaiba, in case you go all nutty and try to threaten Yugi," said Joey.

"Sounds like a Kaiba-ish thing to do," said Téa thoughtfully.

_"Wonderful, I'm being berated by the geeks when I decide to do something nice,"_ Kaiba's voice said dryly.

"Uh-oh guys," said Tristan slowly. "Kaiba, nice? Those two words can never be in a sentence in the affirmative way. How do we know you're the _real_ Seto Kaiba?"

_"Who else would it be, douche bag?"_

"It's the real Kaiba all right." Tristan started to sulk.

"Suck it up," said Joey. "Now c'mon Kaiba, spill."

_"Mokuba wanted me to call to make sure you're alright."_

"Mokuba?" Yugi questioned. "Then why isn't he on the phone?"

_"Because he's taking a shower, because he was soaked through by a freak storm over here."_ Even though he wasn't in the room, they knew he was frowning.

"So were we! Well, a storm over here, not an American one." complained Téa. "I still feel like something the cat brought in."

"I'm pretty sure a cat wouldn't cause a mild earthquake, Téa," said Tristan.

_"Earthquake?"_

"Damn Kaiba, you live in the middle of nowhere?" Joey reached for Tristan's apple, only to have it yanked away. "During the storm we were hit with an earthquake. Mild, nothing really damaged, but shit, we ran like the fucking wind. Especially Yugi here."

"Yeah, well if your life is constantly being threatened by _un_natural disasters, natural ones tend to scare you pretty quickly." Yugi looked a little embarrassed.

"Screw that," said Joey. "Unnatural or no, I ain't gonna stick around shit like that and get killed!"

_"Well, since obviously you're fine,"_ came Kaiba's voice, startling them (they'd momentarily forgotten he was on the line), _"I'll pass along the message to Mokuba. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."_

"Wait!" Yugi nearly jumped to the phone. "What about you two? Are _you_ guys okay? I mean…I heard the weather's strange all over the globe. The news said there was an increase in tectonic plate movement – it's what's causing all the earthquakes and volcanoes right about now. And the change in heat's affecting the weather patterns and stuff…"

They could almost see him raise an eyebrow. It was evident in his tone that he had. _"Evidently, or I wouldn't be talking to you. Goodbye, Yugi."_

The line went dead.

"Well that was cheerful," said Téa, shivering. "And if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get into some dry clothes."

Joey and Tristan sneezed simultaneously. "Ditto to that," said Yugi with an awkward laugh. "C'mon guys, let's go get warm."

* * *

The rain was still coming down in Domino City in bucketfuls. The proverbial cats and dogs had long since been thrown out of the clouds above, and to quote one blonde-haired Egyptian who was staring gloomily out of a first-floor window in a rented house in the suburbs, phone stuffed firmly under his right ear: 'I think the gods have even consented to chucking down some fish as well.'

_"Marik…"_ Ishizu sounded amused. _"The weather here isn't all that wonderful either, you know."_

"Yes, but at least it's not as _wet."_ Marik didn't like the rain all that much, and made sure to let his elder sister know as much – repeatedly. "Ishizu, I _know_ you wanted me to oversee the shipments from Domino, but it's _pouring_ here. This is meant to be summer! I mean, where's the nice weather southern Japan's so famous for? And I've shipped off over three-quarters of the exhibits, so it's not as if-"

_"Marik."_

_"Ishizu…"_ The blonde didn't even try to hide the whine in his voice. "I want to come home. I miss Egypt, and I've nothing to do here."

_"Well…I may have something to cure that last point of yours. Have you been watching the news recently?"_

"Er…" Marik wracked his brains; trying to think of anything that had been relatively newsworthy his sister could be interested in, _"no?_ I mean, I _would,_ but all people can do is talk about how the weather's screwed up everywhere."

_"And don't you find that a little odd?"_

"What, the weather?"

_"Of _course_, the weather! Marik, it gives me a bad feeling – it's a warning, I think, of some kind. Shadi only confirmed it-"_

"Wait," said Marik, frowning. "You've spoken to Shadi?" There was no love lost between the two men.

_"…He visited this morning. He…we_ talked_ for a while, Marik. Shadi is quite astute – he sees bad things on the horizon-"_

"Tell me something new." Marik snorted.

Ishizu sighed. _"Marik, both Shadi and I really think you have to go talk with the pharaoh and his friends."_

"I have to WHAT?!"

_"Marik, you've got to have_ seen_ what's happening about the globe!"_

Marik scowled. "Ishizu, the world going to hell is nothing new. I'm not running to Pharaoh simply over a few spots of rain."

_"And an earthquake."_

"And an earthquake."

_"And flooding."_

"And flooding."

_"And-"_

"Ishizu, I'm _not _going!!"

His sister let out a snap on the other end of the line. _"Marik! It is your duty as a Tomb Keeper and an Ishtar! Don't question it!"_

"But sister, the last time I was in Domino City I tried to kill everyone, and takeover the world! I made an utter fool of myself! How can I expect Yami and Yugi to even bear thinking of me? It's _humiliating._ And besides, I'd really rather not."

_"Marik Ishtar, you_ must _go."_

Defiant. "Why?"

Annoyed. _"Because it is the will of your clan!"_

Clever, now. Or at least, trying to be. "No, Ishizu, it is _your_ will, and Shadi's. There's a difference."

_"Albeit a subtle one that may be."_

Exasperated. "I'm not kidding around, Ishizu! I won't go!"

Frustrated. _"Why? Did you not become friends with the pharaoh and his host?"_

"Yes, very good friends at that."

_"Then?"_

"It's just… no, Ishizu!"

_"Marik, what is it that you fear?"_

"I DON'T FEAR ANYTHING!! I just really rather come home to Egypt – "

_"To do what?"_

Irritated. "Nothing!"

_"EXACTLY. Don't you understand? They _need_ you."_

Softly, now. "… But don't you understand? The last time I was needed, I did terrible things. What if…"

_"What?"_

Quieter, more subdued. "What if he comes back?"

Gently. _"Marik, he has been banished from your mind. He cannot return."_

Agitated. "How do you know?! He wasn't inside you, Ishizu… he didn't control your mind. He didn't fill you with rage and hatred; he didn't make you kill your own _father!"_

_"Be that as it may, do you honestly think he can beat the pharaoh?"_

"…He was so close, last time. So, so close."

Ishizu's tone was cool. _"But he failed."_

Calmer, now. "Yes. He failed."

_"So then…?"_

Defeated, Marik heaved a deep, heavy sigh. "Fine, then. I'll go."

Warmth._ "Thank you, brother. I knew you would."_

* * *

Bakura panted, bent almost double with his hands on his thighs to support himself as he rested, back against the one of the countless walls inside of the Millennium Puzzle. Bakura was quite proud of his stamina and endurance, but even _he _grew tired after trailing up an innumerable number of stairs, winding his way through the labyrinth of the pharaoh's mind.

Ever since he'd placed a piece of his soul within the Puzzle, Bakura had been travelling the unifying Item ceaselessly, searching and searching for the secret to Pharaoh's power. If there was the merest _hint_ that could possibly help the pharaoh in the games Bakura had planned to come the thief was determined to eradicate it – and maybe gain himself a bit of strength along the way.

It was _hard._ The interior of the pharaoh's soulroom changed constantly, shifting with the man's ever-altering thoughts. Stairs appeared where they had no right to be, doors opening halfway up a wall and on the ceiling. How was one supposed to traverse a maze of impossible proportions, composed entirely of nonsensical logic? (Not that he was one to boast concerning logic, but _Ra_, this damned maze was _ridiculous!) _The pharaoh's maze turned reality on its head, and then flipped it rightside-left and inside-out afterwards just for good measure. It was annoying; it was infuriating, and it made absolutely _no SENSE_. Bakura could be heard grumbling every step he took, and debating out loud about the sanity of his age-old rival. After all, the interior of the Millennium Puzzle was based upon the state of the pharaoh's mind – it _did _raise quite a few questions about the man's mental health. (If Pharaoh ever heard his ramblings, he would _definitely_ have quite a few things to say in retaliation – mainly on that same subject of mental health and a certain _white-haired_ yami's soul room. Then again, not many people _had_ been in Bakura's soul room, so there were truly no worries there.)

And then there was avoiding the madman himself. Bakura had lost count of the times he had only narrowly avoided being spotted by the other spirit or the other spirit's host. The two often wandered about the Puzzle – 'Yami' (Bakura shuddered to even think the name) more often than the shrimp. The two would often stand near the door that connected Pharaoh to his host, talking sickeningly sweetly and generally acting so damn '_cutesy'_ it turned Bakura's stomach. After overhearing conversations about 'love', 'friendship', and 'togetherness' one too many times Bakura had simply tried to be as far away from the door as possible when the two were together. For this reason, Bakura blessed the fact that he and his host weren't… oh, what's the term… Ah yes: _friends._ Of course, it was necessary to keep a cordial relationship with Ryou, but confidants? Never.

#Bakura. #

The tomb-robber flinched, the soft voice of his other half taking him by surprise at it echoed in his brain. _Speak of the devil…_ Ryou…checked up on him, occasionally. The young Brit never really expected an answer, but still pressed a mental call upon him every now and then to check he hadn't disappeared. Or maybe to see if he _had_ departed? Ryou did not resent his yami, even after everything he'd done, but it was no secret the teen would probably have a good few more close friends if Bakura were not around. And Ryou was wary now, of what Bakura could do.

$Yadounishi. $ Bakura decided to startle his host, and reply for a change. $What do you want? $

There was silence for awhile – surprise heavy in the air. Distantly – it took a lot for Ryou, with no connection to the Puzzle, to get through the Puzzle's defences to talk to his yami (not that he knew that was where Bakura was, of course) -, Ryou replied: #...I – I was just curious, I guess. #

$Want to know if I've murdered anyone lately? $ Sarcasm lay thickly in Bakura's voice. $Don't worry; I'll be sure to leave you a note next time I have homicidal urges. $

# I-it's just…you were awfully _quiet_, yami. #

$Most people would be _glad_ not to have voices talking in their heads. $

#...I think silence from you is worse. # If anything, Ryou's voice had gotten smaller. #At least if I can hear you I know you're not – that you haven't - #

Bakura let out a low growl. $Been listening to the _pharaoh_ again, have we? $

#_Yami_ - #

Bakura cut the other off abruptly, closing the link between them with a snap.

Ryou didn't trust him. It was little wonder, after he'd taken over the boy's body so many times to further his own ends, but he was nowhere near the outright malicious creature the pharaoh painted him as. The 'just pharaoh' poured poisonous words into his hikari's ears, twisting and turning what little loyalty Ryou had left within him. It had been hard enough, after Battle City, to convince the Brit not to tell his friends that – yet again – the Ring had mysteriously reappeared about his neck, along with Bakura within it. It was even _harder_ to get Ryou to maintain that secrecy from his 'friends', and kept getting more and more difficult as Yami _bloody_ no Yugi kept repeatedly outlining his every fault to his hikari, and fabricating lies against him when there wasn't a good enough fault to illustrate. But of course, let's not imply that Pharaoh's at fault here. Oh _no_! He was full of goodness and righteousness, and the fact that he was known as Yugi's _Darkness_? Psh. "What is in a name? A rose by any other would still smell just as sweet." An indeed, this mighty king was a rose in himself. Why, who else could have stopped the evil that threatened to override the land countless of times! Certainly not a white-haired _thief_ - _he_ could never commit such a noble act! No, it was the Ra-blessed _Pharaoh_, a true Horus-on-Earth. And that he was human and had flaws, many of them? Oh, simply _perish_ the thought! This was not some second-class _vassal_ after all! Mon hitorou no _blasted_ Yugi was a God sent, and, because of that, he was perfect in every right, seeing and knowing all.

But not even Pharaoh could know he'd returned. Surprise was instrumental in Bakura's plan, and all that would be spoilt if Ryou tattled to the pharaoh's host or any of his friends. Bakura didn't want Ryou mentioning his yami's long periods of absence from the Ring – that could lead to questions being raised about where he disappeared to exactly, and lead Pharaoh to feel like searching his Puzzle a little bit more thoroughly. (Not that it couldn't use a little cleaning, but…)

Bakura couldn't let that happen.

* * *

_There exists a dark land; a land for the dreamers caught astray, a border's step from a nightmare. Light passes through, on occasion, but moves rapidly, as if afraid of being eaten by the gloom. And so it is dark._

_In the dark land a rivers rushes along silently, so wide and deep neither the bottom nor the opposite bank can be seen. The water is swift and the current strong, and no living thing dares call it home. No boats traverse the waters save one, and that brave craft sails but once a day –but never makes shore. Hungry eyes, made milky by time and aging, watch it pass from the banks, hiding in scraggly bushes and dead wood and grass. Thin hands, tipped with claws sometimes stretch out to halt the boat, and are beaten back repeatedly for their troubles. Day after day, the craft passes undeterred._

_Silence reigns. Where the sun never touches nothing grows, and nothing lives to feed upon the nonexistent harvest. Grey fields stand empty, wasted guardians watching seedless furrows in the barren soil. Thin figures scuttle about their business, hurrying near the ground, and thick windowless abodes shelter them from the outside world._

_At the centre of the dark land a citadel stands, jutting from the ground like a broken fang. Around it lie ruins, fallen statues of long-dead Kings and men. The stone of both building and memorials crumble away as time passes, and the citadel's door remains closed, the path to the fortress eroded away by dust, sand and wind. Nothing appears to move within._

_Ages pass. Eons come and go, and the land remains motionless. Sometimes grey figures stumble through and are harried by eyes watching them through cracked holes, orbs slits of fear or jealousy. The light flicks in and whisks itself away, and the river continues to run silently past, the boat passing with it, forever once a day. The citadel remains closed and forbidding, but all at once a sound arises from it – a breath, released, weary and wanting. The dust swirls in eddies, the land's occupants shooting fearful glances to the fortress._

_In the dark land, something stirs._

* * *

**Shadow: **(yawns) I dunno why I do most of my editing and uploading in the morning. I'm not usually fully awake; I'm nigh _always_ hungry, and my –long- hair is usually a mess. (But my dressing gown is fluffy and I wuvs it. –grins-)

(whines) This site keeps messing up all my formatting. It's meaning a nice, _quick _update is taking nearly an hour.

Y'know, I _do_ think Hikari and I write really similarly, looking back at this chapter. I mean, there are slight differences where our writing is set side by side, but overall it fits together quite nicely. _I_ think so, anyway. Hikari probably does too. I dunno; I need to go talk with her… I don't think she's up this early, though. (wanders off)


	3. Chapter III

**Hikari:** Yolla! Sorry this took so long… SOMEBODY was having trouble writing scenes. (grins) No, I kid – well, I don't, but I love her anyway, so don't get mad at us. Anywhoosle, we'll have the next chapter up as soon as we can, although I'm not sure how soon that'll be… (cough) Forgive us, we've got other fics and we're both writing one-shots of Compy's contest. Well 'ai-chan, take it away.

**Shadow:** (grumbles) Homework plus competition plus holiday plus procrastination plus general stress are not conducive to writing, I assure you all now. Guilt, however, _is_ – it adds to the 'general stress' category somewhat as well though, too. (sighs) Anyway, it's finally up. It's_ my_ fault it's late and…I'm just gonna upload this and slink back into the woodwork now. (slinks off)

_**Disclaimer:** _Shadow over Egypt and Hikari Daeron do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or anything related to the anime/manga – that is the right of its creator, Kazuki Takahashi. Nor do they own any Bright Eyes lyrics, or any obscure reference to any other story. They also do not own the Egyptian deities, although the antagonist in this story is theirs. They exclusively own the plot of this piece. And any resemblance to another fanfiction is purely coincidental.

**_Notes: _**

$Yadda. $ Bakura to Ryou.

#Yadda. # Ryou to Bakura

_

* * *

_

**Combined Silence **

**Chapter III **

_"In a house, by myself, I hear the ice start to melt and I'll watch the rooftops weep for the sunlight." _

(_False Advertising_)

_How bright it must be, the world outside. The sun would be shining far above, slowly ascending to its highest point, illuminating everything in its blessed path. The light would warm the bodies and hearts of men, giving them hope, despite whatever fears they have. _

_The sun is sorely missed here. That sun that warms frozen souls is not here to defrost mine. That sun that shines bright enough to illuminate the darkest of hearts does not bless my captor, does not give him unknown kindness. There is no sun here, no sun to grant me hope and the will to fight on. _

_I did not know that I would miss the sun so _fiercely _here. I didn't realize just how many things I took for granted, just what meant the most to me. My friends – their laughter, their hopes and dreams and kind faces, suns that once that lit my darkened soul – are no longer here. I'd… _forgotten _just what they meant to me, what they represented. Funny, how you don't realize what's precious until it's gone. Is that why you wanted me to join you here? Is that why you took me away? _

_I finally came outside, to the courtyard you 'gave' me. I don't have guards, and yet I can feel a thousand and one eyes following my every movement. Prying, inquisitive gazes that first roused my anger because I could find no peace from them, and now… _

_Now, I pity them that find themselves unable to stop watching. Has it been so long since you were like me? Or perhaps, you have forgotten. I can only… If you did not fear me, I would speak to you, but even my words seem to cause something within your grey heart to shatter. You flinch when I draw breath - every time -, and you flee when I speak. More then take your place. _

_…I did not know what was to blame, when the trouble started. I thought that, like other earthly disasters, this was something the gods had done to amuse themselves and it would pass. I had no idea the gravity of the situation, or just what it would mean for _me_. But who would've _guessed _the situation was so? Who would have even _dared _to chance a guess? I am no modest person and yet – _

_This would be ridiculously funny were it not so serious, I think. _

_It was difficult to accept, when I finally learned. I didn't _want _to accept it, so I didn't, at first. But after I realized resistance was futile, I thought that life wouldn't be so different down here. And I guess it isn't, really, except... _

_Who am I kidding? There's so much _missing _here. I never thought that what lacked in this world would be so thoroughly _missed_. But I do miss it. Every day, every reminder that those very things are lost to me drives me nigh mad at their loss. The sun is just one of these. If there was some way I could get them back, or just see them once last time, then perhaps... _

_No. There is no way. I force myself to recognize that and move on. If I don't, then I will be driven mad at their lack. If I don't, I will spend this endless eternally craving their presence, something I can never again have. Always wanting, longing, _needing_… do_ _you intend to drive me mad, also?_

_Who knew what was behind this all? I certainly didn't at the time..._

* * *

Ryou Bakura was alone – _again_. It wasn't really surprising to him by now, but he was a little tired of it. Especially when this time, he was seeking company instead of shying away from it, and the person who had abandoned him – 

No, how could he even _think _the word abandonment? Of course that wasn't the case. James Bakura loved his son very much, he would never _abandon_...

That didn't count. Moving out and to Domino had been his own idea, and one of the best he had ever had. It had nothing to do with his father. Sure he hadn't been around very much since the death of Ryou's mother and sister, but that didn't mean... he wasn't just _leaving _Ryou! James had been so distraught over the death of his wife and daughter that he immersed himself in work. But he still cared for Ryou, still loved him. He was there when Ryou had the fl – okay, maybe not then, but definitely when Ryou was sick with – no, well, what about when Ryou won the... but he had excuses! He was making important archaeological discovers all around the world! Bringing Ryou with him would only have added to his worries. Besides, Ryou was happier living alone, right?

_Right? _

After all, if his dad had been around, would he ever have met Bakura? His dad had been the one to give him the Millennium Ring, after all. Even though Bakura had practically _ruined_...

But after all, James had _meant _well, in giving Ryou the Ring. Right?

And that's why he _hadn't _abandoned Ryou when he told his son to come to the Domino Museum (even if it had been his secretary to call and ask him to come). He _hadn't _just picked up and left. As the curator, he of course would go to the site of a new archaeological discovery in India. It was expected. To say that he had picked up and _left _a son he hadn't seen in years... to say that he had _forgotten_... never.

"Oi, be careful with that! It's worth more than your life, and it will be _mine _if you break it!"

A voice broke through Ryou's thoughts. He spun around and strained after it. That sounded more than familiar...

"You are the most obnoxious person I have ever met! If only I had the Rod... you'd be my mind-slave, goon! Count your blessings! Now, do as I say!"

Yup, that confirmed it – Marik Ishtar was in the house.

Ryou would have normally shirked away from him – not only because he tried to avoid everyone he knew for their safety, but also because... well, he didn't really _know _Marik. The Egyptian had dealt with Bakura in the past, back when he still had the Millennium Rod. And Bakura had –

"Hey, Marik!"

Ryou surprised himself by seeking the Tomb Keeper out. He turned the corner and sprinted towards Marik before he could leave. Surprised to hear his name, the blonde had turned and nearly blushed when he saw who it was. The last time he and Ryou had interacted, Ryou had nearly been sent to the Shadow Realm. They weren't exactly best friends. Marik had been ashamed to truly approach him after Battle City. He had quickly apologized, then ran away. Cowardly, perhaps, but Marik didn't want to think about that. But why was...?

"Hi, Ryou!" he said cheerfully as Ryou caught his breath. "What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same question," replied the Brit. "My dad's the curator, but he had to... ah, leave, before I could meet him." Marik knew there was more to the story. From what he could piece together, Ryou's dad had practically left the boy to fend for himself after the death of the man's wife and daughter. That's when Bakura had made himself known... poor Ryou had dealt with a lot in his life. The Egyptian couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "What about you?"

"Ishizu wanted me to supervise these shipments back to Egypt," he said. "Being a charming little brother, I acquiesced graciously."

Ryou grinned. "I'm sure you did."

Marik pouted. "I did, I swear!"

"_Suuuuure._ And Bakura wasn't sent to the Shadow Realm."

Ryou hadn't meant for that to slip out, but it had. Their smiles faded, and Marik carefully said, "Ryou... he's back, isn't he?"

The near-albino said nothing.

Marik pressed on. "There are still things we former Millennium Item holders can sense – and the spirits are one of them. The Ring came back, didn't it?"

Ryou bit his lip before grabbing Marik's arm and dragging him down the corridor. "C'mon. Let's go somewhere where we can talk."

* * *

"Wow." 

Marik stared at the artefacts and pictures that decorated the office. "Is this your dad's?"

"Yep," said Ryou, closing the door behind him. "I... well, back during Battle City; Bakura swiped a spare key from a secretary who wasn't paying attention."

Marik turned to face him. "How long?"

"He came back at the beginning of the summer," said Ryou sombrely.

"Are you _sure_ he's back?"

"Quite. I've spoken to him."

"Can he..." Marik hesitated. "I mean, has he... well..."

"Taken over my body?" Ryou supplied. "No. At least, not yet. I can't understand it... when I try to communicate with him via mind link, his voice is faint and it's _hard_ to get a hold of him... I'm not even sure he _can_ take over my body anymore."

Very suddenly, the Ring under Ryou's shirt glowed. A moment later, Bakura appeared out in the world for the first time since Battle City. "Hello there, Marik." The spirit's tone was cordial, but his brown eyes flashed with the mixture of dark amusement and flickering threat Marik now associated with the thief. Bakura was an unpredictable soul at best, and at worst… "As you can see, I _can_ take control of my host at any time." The albino's expression slid into a cold smirk, his gaze locked with his companion's. "I want to strike a deal with you."

Marik had to restrain himself from taking a step back. Even though he'd sensed it…well - Ryou was _blatantly wrong: _Bakura_ could_ take over his body. That the thief was so 'distant'…well, it usually didn't bode well. But…maybe Bakura was just fed up of dealing with Pharaoh and his friends. It was a good enough reason as any to stay out of the way, especially if you included the factored that Yami would banish Bakura again upon sight in the equation. Marik just…didn't think that was quite it. And it worried him, vaguely. "Bakura." Still, he kept his composure, and didn't so much as bat an eyelid. "What kind of deal are we talking about?"

"I need you to keep my return a secret," said Bakura smoothly, ever the fast-talking salesman. "Not a word to the pharaoh or his friends. Or Ishizu and Odion, for that matter. I need you to pretend that I'm still locked away in the Shadow Realm."

Marik raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for me, keeping your secret? Oh," he added as an afterthought, "You need to tell me your Shadows-escaping stories one day."

Bakura grinned wolfishly. "One day, I shall. As for what is in it for you?" He cracked his fingers. "You need to talk to Pharaoh and his little friends, yet you lack the nerve to do it." Marik had forgotten about Bakura's unnerving ability to guess the truth about people's motives. He flinched. "My host can grant you access to Yugi's group, and make it easy for you to tell them whatever you need to. In addition, I personally will assist you in the next hair-brained 'adventure' we're forced into. By then, I will have revealed myself to Pharaoh."

"You mean to, then?"

"Oh yes – just not yet. Do we have a deal?" Bakura held out a hand.

Marik considered it. On the one hand, he vowed to help and protect the Pharaoh and Yugi. On the other, Bakura didn't seem to mean any harm and _did_ say that he would reveal himself eventually. Wasn't there such thing as honour among thieves (even former ones)?

Marik shook his hand. "Deal."

"Excellent." The Ring flashed, and Ryou stood before him, blinking and looking confused.

"What's wrong?" asked Marik, concerned. "Don't you remember…?"

"That's just it," said Ryou, dazed. "That's why… that's why I'm so surprised. I _do_ remember. I… I _never _remember what happens when Bakura takes over. But… this time…" His voice faded, ending in a wandering tone.

That confirmed it in Marik's mind: Bakura wouldn't cause any trouble. No – he had to rephrase that. Bakura wouldn't cause any _major_ trouble. This _was_ Bakura, after all.

"Well," said Marik lightly. "You'll have heard our deal, then. My _darling_ sister wants me to talk to Yami and Yugi before I leave, and Bakura vouched for you. So… can you help me?"

Ryou nodded soberly. "Of course. But… can you do _me_ a favour?"

Marik nearly groaned. Ask him the day before if he'd have made so many promises in one day, and he'd have laughed. "What?"

"Well, Yugi invited me to this party he wants to throw for the Kaibas," said Ryou hesitantly. "I don't want to go – because of Bakura, you understand. Yugi said I've been avoiding everyone, and that this would be a great way to see them." Marik nearly snorted. He could easily picture innocent little Yugi pulling a guilt-trip on poor, polite Ryou. "I don't want to be rude, and you're the only one who can keep my other half truly in check, so… will you come?"

$I seriously resent all these insinuations that I cause chaos wherever I go, especially when Pharaoh and his host are around. $ Now that he was comfortable in the Ring, Bakura could easily access Ryou at any point.

#Yami, you _do_ cause chaos wherever you go, _especially_ when it's around Yami and Yugi. #

$I love you too, Ryou. $

#I do try. #

Meanwhile, Marik thought over Ryou's proposition. He knew that the Brit meant well, and that it was a perfect opportunity to speak to the Puzzle bearers, but… He sighed. He knew he was just trying to put off meeting the pair for the first time since Battle City. "Alright," he said. "I'll come."

Ryou smiled warmly. "Thanks Marik. I truly appreciate it."

Marik couldn't help but smile back. Ryou was really a great person. He wished he had known that before hurting and using him.

Suddenly, he paused. "Why is Yugi throwing _Kaiba_ a party?"

* * *

"Hey, Seto, isn't that Yugi?" 

Kaiba stiffened and looked in the direction that Mokuba pointed. They were at Domino Airport, coming back home from America. Once the weather cleared up, Kaiba had taken a jet home, a new one (the Blue Eyes White Jet, his personal favourite, had been trashed during the whole DOMA fiasco, and he'd yet to replace it.)

Mokuba was pointing at spiky hair, which was black and crimson from the back. "Unless that's a good imitation, it is definitely Yugi Mouto," said the teen billionaire dryly. "Oh great. Let's get out of here before – "

"Hey, Yugi!"

" – he notices we're here," moaned Kaiba, following Mokuba grudgingly as the younger boy ran towards the duellist.

"H-hey, Mokuba!" said Yugi, flashing a bright smile. "Thank goodness you guys are here and alright. Hi Kaiba."

"Hello there Yugi. What brings you here?" Although Seto would _never _admit it, even to himself, subconsciously he was very relieved to see Yugi so very-much _alive_.

"I'm here to accompany you home!" came the cheerful reply. "And to inform you that we've decided to throw you two a 'Welcome Home' party! It's tomorrow, at my place."

"'We'?"

"The gang and I."

"Because Wheeler would so desperately want to welcome me back," murmured Kaiba, before shaking his head. "Forget it Yugi."

"What?!" snapped Mokuba. "Oh c'mon Seto! _Please_?"

"You know how I hate parties, Mokuba."

"But I miss everyone loads and it'll be fun!"

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"Oh _please _Seto? They went through all that trouble… and everyone agreed to it! Right, Yugi?"  
Yugi hesitated. "Well… they took a bit of convincing, but…"

Mokuba decided that this piece of evidence was no longer important. "Everyone agreed to it in the end! Oh _pretty _please Seto? With a cherry on top and ice-cream all over?"

Kaiba stared sternly at his brother… then started to cave ever so slightly as Mokuba packed in the puppy-eyes. Momentarily, he gave in. "Fine. But just for a few – "

"HURRAY!!!" Mokuba hugged his brother tightly, squeezing out the breath he was going to use for his last word. "Thanks Nii-sama!! You're the best!"

Kaiba groaned and patted his little brother's head. "I hope I don't regret this."

He did.

* * *

The party at Yugi's home was lively and, more importantly, _loud._ It was giving Kaiba a headache, and Kaiba was doing his utmost best to avoid the main centre of all the action. Not that he was getting very far… every time the brunette got a few rooms away from the uncouth mob that was Yugi-tachi, his little brother came to drag him back again. It was rather a pointless exercise, and so Kaiba just gave up and camped out (?) in the kitchen, glaring at anyone who passed through the swing doors leading to the living room (where the main of the party was). After Téa had accidentally breezed in (and then backed out again rather quickly, cowed), it became clear the kitchen was Kaiba the dragon's domain: 'Beware all ye who enter here'. Ice-blue eyes were _decidedly_ unfriendly, and so Yugi-tachi to most extent left their standoffish 'friend' alone, valuing both their lives and their bank accounts, most of them silently stunned at the fact Kaiba had showed to the party in the_ first_ place. 

People had arrived in dribs and drabs to the event, all of them dripping wet due to the weather – it was still _pouring _outside. Visibility was at an all-time low, so most of them had had to walk to the Kame Game Shop – the Kaiba brothers had been the only ones to arrive in a vehicle, and it had taken them a good half an hour more than it should have to get from the manor to the party for sheer safety's sake. Impatient as Kaiba Seto was, he wasn't going to endanger his little brother's life just to arrive at a party on time. (The fact he _still_ wasn't all that keen on the party had nothing to do with of it, of course, not at all.)

Everyone was finally at the party, to Yugi's knowledge. Kaiba – as mentioned before – had commandeered the kitchen for himself; the brunette's little brother, in complete contrast, taking the centre spot in the living room so he could enthusiastically spill his tales of life in America to his older friends. Joey had – of course – taken up the entire space leading to the table with the food on it, Tristan alternating with jostling beside him for the snacks, and elbowing Duke aside to declare his undying love for Serenity. Duke fought back viciously, and the two could be heard bickering – loudly. Téa was talking on the phone with Mai – the older woman had been unable to attend, stuck on the other end of the country after all the storms. 'Grandpa' Mouto had left the house for the evening to visit an old friend's, and so the teenagers could cause as much chaos as they liked without parental supervision.

Ryou was sitting quietly in an armchair by himself, staring out at the rain outside. He had hardly spoken a word all evening, his chocolate-brown eyes shadowed by the snowy bangs of his fringe. To Yugi it almost looked as if he were waiting for someone, lost in thought – but that couldn't be. Everyone had already arrived.

"Ryou-kun, are you alright?" Yugi felt a twinge of guilt. He'd pressured Ryou into attending, concerned with how withdrawn the young Brit was from those he called 'friends'. But perhaps…it was _wrong_ of him to do so? If Ryou didn't like… It wasn't fair to make the teen uncomfortable.

"Hm? Oh…" Ryou smiled lightly, glancing up at the smaller youth, "I'm perfectly fine. Thankyou for asking, Yugi."

"Are you sure?" Yugi carefully perched himself on the chair's arm. "It's just…you look as if you have something on your mind."

"I usually do." His companion's face and voice remained perfectly pleasant, but they were both just as closed to scrutiny. "Is something bothering _you_, Yugi?"

"This isn't about me, this is -"

"- A wonderful party, thankyou for inviting me."

"Ryou-kun, that wasn't what I was-"

Someone rapped on the front door, and cut Yugi off mid-sentence. Frustrated, he glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed –

Another rap.

"You'd probably best go answer that." Ryou smiled politely. "It's pouring outside still, and whoever's at the door is probably getting more and more drenched."

Yugi gave a great sigh, but clambered off the edge of the armchair he'd been perched on and over to the door. Joey wandered along at his heels, balancing a plate of food in one hand and stuffing his face with what was on it with his one free limb.

Yugi opened the door, and amethyst eyes opened impossibly wide at spotting who was waiting on the other side. _"Marik!" _

Joey started, choking on the mini sausage roll he'd just tried to swallow. Quickly, he leant around Yugi to slam the door shut, leaning on the back of it as he tried to breathe around the food caught in his throat. He finally got there, stuttering a: "Was…was that just…?"

"Yes it was!" Ryou had rushed over at hearing Yugi cry out Marik's name, shoving Joey out of the way and diving past the still-stunned Yugi to open the door once more. "Marik, you're finally here!"

"It's because I know you all love my company so much." The Egyptian smiled a little wanly, his eyes focused on Joey.

There was a shocked sort of silence. It was so noticeable from the outright blare of… well, nothingness. It even drew Kaiba's attention – he left his haunt in the kitchen to check that everyone hadn't suddenly been wiped out by…_something _(much as it pained him to use such an pathetic term, one couldn't really be very much more specific with Yugi-tachi) while he'd been elsewhere (not that he cared for the dolts – no, he was thinking of Mokuba).

"Marik." Yugi managed a pleasant smile, ducking under Ryou's arm to look warmly at the Egyptian standing on the doorstep. "It's been a long time. You should've told us you were coming; we could have gotten prepared for you."

"Yeah, by hiding in the next country…" Joey muttered, and got an elbow in the ribs from Téa for his efforts.

Yugi continued, ignoring the blonde's grumblings beside him. "Come in!" He grabbed Marik's arm, tugging the soaked teenager into the warmth of the house. Noticing how slick with rain the Egyptian's limb was, Yugi frowned first at his now-wet palm, and then at Marik. "Would you like to borrow some clothes? If you stay in that lot you're going to catch cold for certain."

"…That would be great actually; thankyou Yugi." Marik smiled, going after the other when Yugi motioned for him to follow him upstairs.

Joey, scowling, returned to the food table. Ryou returned to his seat. Kaiba, growing sick of the stunned, thick silence, returned to the kitchen.

The bang from the swinging doors made everyone else jump.

_

* * *

_"Tristan, don't you have_ any_ decent movies?" Téa flicked through a pile of DVDs her male friend had brought, her expression rather disgusted. 

Joey rolled over from his perch in front of the player, reaching over to snatch the popcorn out of Tristan's hands. "… And by_ decent, _dear one an' all, she means 'chick flick'."

"No," Téa put her hands on her hips, the TV's glow behind her outlining her form and casting rather scary shadows across the floor, "by 'decent' I meant any films that don't involve someone getting their insides splashed across the screen in a tide of blood and gore."

"Hey, I _like_ blood and gore." Tristan defended his movie tastes.

"So do I." Mokuba was beaming, practically bouncing on his seat as he picked up a DVD with a particularly vivid splash of red on its cover -

"And you're not watching it." Kaiba lifted the disc from his hands, having deigned to join Yugi-tachi watching a movie. (Joey had finally got fed up being frightened out of the kitchen, and invaded that room in search of more food. Kaiba, discreetly avoiding the other's blatantly annoying presence, had given up and joined the masses.)

"But… _nii-sama!!" _

_"No,_ Mokuba."

"… Fine." A thwarted sigh. "What do _you_ think we should watch?"

Kaiba frankly didn't care. "It's Mouto's house – let _him_ pick what we watch." A pause, the brunette suddenly glancing around. "… Where _is _Mouto, anyway?"

Yugi was at the front door – again - letting in an extremely wet, pretty bedraggled Solomon Mouto. "Jii-chan… I thought you weren't coming back till later…?"

"The lights went down, and we had to call the evening short." Solomon looked regretful. "All that end of the city's without power right now – I hope everything's been alright here?"

"Everything's been perfect, Mr. Mouto." Téa had spotted the old man and come over, flicking the light switch in the living room on as she passed. (There were a few yelps from some of the boys – the bright light hurt their eyes after being accustomed to only the pale glow from the TV for so long.) "We were just trying to pick a movie to watch."

Yugi's grandfather scanned the room the rest of the group was sitting in, taking in the scattered DVDs, bowls of popcorn, cans, and teenagers sprawled everywhere. For an instant, his eyes met the brilliant blue of Kaiba's and there was a tense pause, but Solomon's gaze moved on. "Nothing on TV?" His tone was light.

"No." Marik spoke up from where he'd been hidden by the edge of the sofa, tucked away in a corner of the room in Ryou's shadow. At the puzzled look Yugi's grandfather gave him the blonde stood, carefully picking his way over to the old man. "My apologies – we haven't met before, have we?" Joey's clothes hung a bit loosely on the Egyptian.

"I don't think so…" Solomon glanced to his grandson. "Yugi?"

The teen made the obligatory introductions. "This is Marik Ishtar, Grandpa. His sister used to be the head of the Egyptian exhibit at the museum. We met him at Battle City."

"Your name _does_ sound familiar…" Slowly, Solomon shook the hand Marik extended towards him.

"He was the other finalist."

If the old man picked up on the carefully neutral tone of voice Yugi was using he didn't show it. "My congratulations then; you must be quite a bit of a good duelist!!" Solomon's smile was welcoming. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go get changed. I'm a bit wet."

_

* * *

_It had been half an hour, and _still_ everyone couldn't agree on something to watch. Tristan was holding out for something along the horror lines, Mokuba silently rooting his cause – the younger boy didn't dare actually vocalise his support with his big brother's cool gaze fixed upon him. Joey wanted an action film – the more explosions the better -, but Téa was insisting most of that type Joey wanted had a plot so awful they'd never pay attention to it anyway. Everyone seemed to be disagreeing with someone else and it was rapidly descending into a mass of petty squabbling until: 

"How about we don't watch anything at all, and tell stories instead?"

Silence greeted the words, a score of curious, surprised gazes swivelling about to look at Marik, from whence the suggestion had came.

Ryou blinked, and then smiled. "Actually, I think that's a really good idea."

Tristan sat up from where he'd been slouching against the wall. "But I don't _know_ any good stories."

Joey nodded agreement. "If I did, I'da already' told 'em."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to go with what Joey said." Téa looked repentant. "Besides…all the stories we have are mostly of what's happened to us – and we've all experienced them, anyway. Re-telling them is rather pointless."

"Maybe I should ask Grandpa if he knows any." Yugi got to his feet rather calmly, smiling at his friends, and headed for the kitchen. (Apparently, that room had become the refuge of choice for the evening.) Solomon hadn't wanted to disturb the teenagers after he'd changed his clothes – but there wasn't exactly much for him to do upstairs. Yugi knew his grandfather had been pottering around the ground floor since he'd come downstairs, and recently heard the old man come into the kitchen and put the kettle on. So – logically, that meant he must have heard their conversation… "Jii-chan?" Sure enough, Solomon was in the kitchen, making himself something hot to drink. "What about it? Do you have any good stories?"

His grandfather picked up his mug, stirring it thoughtfully with a teaspoon. "Myths. Legends. Of Egypt, mostly. I was discussing them earlier, with my friend, so they're rather clear in my mind now…"

Yugi waited patiently, but the old man was lost in his thoughts. He cleared his through. Solomon looked up sharply, then relaxed. "My apologizes, Yugi. I just can't… hum." He gestured to the other room. "Shall I summarize the stories for you, and you repeat them to your friends? I doubt they want to listen to an old geezer like me."

"They'd love to listen to you, Grandpa," said Yugi, tugging at his shirtsleeve. "Won't you join us?"

Solomon stared thoughtfully at his grandson, stirring his hot cocoa. "Alright then," he said, finally. Slowly he stood, making his way across the kitchen and into the living room, where the others sat, patiently waiting. (Well, in reality, Joey looking at Marik suspiciously from the corner of his eyes, and Tristan and Duke were glaring at each other as Serenity ignored both and ate some chips.)

Téa, being one of the few with manners in the room, stood and let Mouto jii-chan take her seat. He sat slowly, as age and weather had taken its toll on his body. He stirred his cocoa and took a sip. As Téa and Yugi situated themselves, everyone else turned their attention to the oldest member of the group, whether in interest or just out of mere boredom.

Solomon examined the faces of his audience, before saying, "A long, long time ago in Egypt there lived a man, Se-Osiris, and his father, Setna. Se-Osiris was Egypt's greatest magician, and was renowned far and wide for his great skills and strength."

("Sounds like an old fairy tale," whispered Joey. Téa slapped his knee and hissed for him to be quiet. He fell silent. There were no more interruptions after that.)

"One day, Se-Osiris and Setna saw two funeral processions pass them by. The first was the funeral of a poor man with only his family to mourn him. His coffin was wood, cheaply bought and common. The second was the long funeral procession of a rich man; whose sarcophagus sparkled with gold and ornaments. A great many mourners followed, weeping and wailing.

Setna was impressed by the beauty of the second procession, and began to praise it. His son, however, cut him short, commenting that it was the poor man's funeral that was the most worthy.

'Why?' asked Setna.

'Because,' replied Se-Osiris, 'it is the poor man who will most likely be judged favourably in the Hall of Two Truths before the great god Osiris. The rich man is sure to have a heavy burden of evil on his heart, and his sins will probably tip the scale when it is weighed against the feather of Ma'at.'

Setna kept to his point. 'But…is not the wealth of the man proof of his status and his good works for the Pharaoh?'

Se-Osiris nodded, agreeing only partially. 'Perhaps, but his status here will do nothing to save him in the Hall of Judgement. However…if you doubt me, we can see the outcome for this wealthy man, for I know the words of power to open the gates of the Duat. I can transform you and me into our Ba form, and we can fly beside this man as he journeys through the dark land to the Hall of Two Truths.'

Setna feared that this magic was too dangerous. What if they could not return, once they entered the Duat? He had no wish to die before his time. Still, he followed his son to the Temple of Osiris in Thebes, though his heart trembled with fear.

Being the son and grandson of the Great Ramses, none barred them from the sanctuary, guards moving aside to let them pass. Once inside, Se-Osiris drew a magic circle around the altar and statue of the god, motioning his father to step inside with him. Throwing a magic powder into the flames on the alter Se-Osiris spoke the magic word of power.

The Temple rocked, as if an earthquake had shook it, and the altar's flames leaped as high as the ceiling. Almost immediately afterwards they died down. In the darkness remaining behind, Setna saw two glowing figures standing beside the statue of the god, each with a flame burning hotly above their heads. The two figures were the Ka of Setna and Se-Osiris, the fire the flames of their souls. In the shadows Setna saw two bodies lying still, and recognised them as the bodies of himself and his son.

'Come, father,' said Se-Osiris, 'for we must complete our journey before the sun rises again, else dwell in Duat forever.'

'Lead the way,' Setna said, before following his son upwards on the smoke of the altar fire.

The souls of the two men sped across the land of Egypt, heading always to the west. Eventually they flew through the gap in the great mountains of Abydos, and into the First Region of the Night. There the glorious Boat of Ra was waiting to gather all the souls of the dead of that day, glittering with jewels and gold.

Gods walked along the banks of the River of Death, pulling the Boat of Ra toward the open gates of the Duat. Six serpents were curled on either side of the gate and they hissed as the Boat with its souls travelled by. The Bas of Setna and Se-Osiris floated after it.

The door to the Second Region of the Night was guarded by fire-breathing serpents and had many sharp spear points affixed to the top so that none could climb back once they'd passed through. The souls on the Boat of Ra chanted the proscribed words and the doors opened, revealing the wonders of the Kingdom of Ra where the old gods dwelt. The souls of the dead could only marvel in awe at the many wonders along the banks, unable to disembark. They were bound for Amenti, the Third Region, and Osiris' Judgement in the Hall of Two Truths.

The doors to the Third Region were terrible, their pivots seated in the eye sockets of two men who had done much evil while on earth. It was inside the Third Region the Boat drew up to the banks, and the souls of the dead walked in procession through the outer court of the Hall of Judgement. Once all aboard had disembarked to meet their fate, the Boat of Ra moved on through the next region and the next, until it had completed its journey through the Regions of the Night and Ra was reborn in the East with the rising of the Sun.

Setna and Se-Osiris followed the souls of dead to the portal of the Hall of Osiris where each answered the challenge of the Door-Keeper as they had been taught in life.

'You cannot pass unless you know my name,' the Door-Keeper cried. 'What is my name?'

'Understander of Hearts is your name and Searcher of Bodies,' each soul answered in turn.

'Who should I tell of your coming?' demanded the Door-Keeper.

'Tell the Interpreter of the Two Lands that I come,' replied the souls.

'Who is the Interpreter of the Two Lands?' asked the Door-Keeper.

'It is Thoth the Wise God.'

So each filed past the Door-Keeper in turn.

Thoth greeted each one saying, 'You can come with me, but why have you come?'

'I have come to be announced.'

'What is your condition?'

'I am pure of sin.'

'Who do you wish to see?'

'The one whose ceiling is of fire, whose wall are made of writhing serpents and whose floor is flowing water, for he is Osiris.'

'Very well,' answered Thoth, and led each soul before Osiris upon his throne. Osiris was wrapped as a mummy is in death with the Uraeus on his forehead and the crook and the scourge crossed on his breast. Before his throne stood a huge balance to weigh the heart of the souls.

Each soul stood before Osiris, proclaiming in their defence: 'I am pure! I am pure! My purity is that of the Bennu Bird, whose nest rest upon the stone persea-tree, the obelisk at Heliopolis. I have come without sin, without guilt, without evil. I live on truth and eat of truth. I have given bread to the hungry...' Each soul continued in that vein, until their proscribed speech had been completed."

Solomon kept talking, describing the Weighing of the Heart by Anubis, but Kaiba had stopped listening. Egypt…ever since Yugi Mouto had appeared with his annoying Puzzle and even more annoying friends in tow, Kaiba had never been able _not _to hear something about Egypt. In his way he'd decided to research the long-dead culture, the religion, the _people,_ so he was fully informed when he dismissed every single theory Yugi and company presented before him. It didn't matter the way his mind picked up on small details sometimes, the way it caught upon the picture of a lily and spent the rest of the afternoon dreaming of flowers floating on water gleaming in the sun. No…that didn't matter. To prove something to him, Kaiba Seto needed cold, hard, solid _facts._ Facts were indisputable, unquestionable. And so Kaiba knew all about Egypt. Because of his research, and nothing else.

Yugi was drinking in the myths his grandfather gave him like a flower to the rain, shifting slightly to get a better position on the sofa. A gleam of crimson from under gold bangs… _Other_ Yugi? Kaiba thought the strange other part of Yugi's personality came out only to duel, or yell at him.

The old man was finishing his story. "… And so Setna and Se-Osiris watched the good and evil being sorted into their just destinations.

'See, father,' said Se-Osiris, 'the rich man's fate is not affected by his wealth or the splendour of his funeral procession. Rather, the gaining of his wealth may place a heavy burden of sin on his heart. Even the poor man can attain the rewards of the Fields of Peace, and the wealth or poverty of his life has no bearing on his judgement. As the poor man's life is simple and unburdened by the practices of gaining and keeping wealth and status, his heart too is unburdened.' With that, Se-Osiris led his father soaring through the night back to reclaim their bodies at the Temple in Thebes, before the dawn. Together they watched the sun rise from the forecourt of the temple and contemplated the judgement of Osiris in the Underworld."

* * *

With the end of story time, a lot of Yugi-tachi quieted down. Téa decided to walk home while Tristan gallantly offered to escort her – in truth, he was heading that anyway, his parents having demanded him home -, and their presence left an odd silence behind. Joey, Ryou and Marik were staying the night – all three lived pretty far away, and didn't have much to go back to. When Ryou agreed to stay Marik did as well, gratefully accepting a blanket Solomon handed to him and curling up in front of the TV. A movie was playing there, volume low, even though no-one was quite sure which one it was. 

Speaking of the senior Mouto…he'd vanished. Joey said the old man had said he was going to his bedroom. His grandson, the elusive Yugi, had upped and vanished as well. This was quite annoying, as Kaiba wanted to say his 'goodbye' to the runt and be out of the Mouto residence as fast as possible – Mokuba couldn't complain; the party _was_ pretty much over.

And so it was, Seto Kaiba found himself standing before the partly open door of Yugi Mouto's bedroom, tapping once, shortly, at the wood before entering.

The room was heavy with shadows, blue-grey, grey, all the way to black. The bed was unmade, books lined the floor. Games were haphazardly stacked on shelves, boxes piled on top of each other in great towers. Yugi sat, curled up in a window-seat, gazing out the glass into the raining world beyond. He never looked up at Kaiba's entrance.

The brunette, mildly annoyed, broke the silence. "What kind of ill manners is this, that the host of the party leaves his guests to brood in a corner alone?" The question was rhetoric and pointless – Kaiba meant nothing by it; it was simply something to say to fill the silence.

Crimson eyes flashed at him in the dim, the blue light from outside shining in through streams of water running down the window and creating a rippling pattern on his companion's skin. "As if _you_ are one to speak of ill manners, Seto Kaiba!"

_Ah, the wrong Mouto…_ Yami took umbrage at his comments so much quicker than his other half.

Kaiba's words got even more direct. "What _are_ you brooding about, anyway? The next 'destiny' speech you're going to force me to endure over a Duel Monsters field?"

"Go _away_, Kaiba. Didn't you come up here to make your excuses so you could run home?"

Mild annoyance flared to anger but Kaiba restrained his lashing tongue – for once -, instead moving over to sit at the ex-pharaoh's side, on the seat. Silently, Yami moved his tucked legs so the other had space.

There was an almost companionable silence, and it was strange.

After a few minutes Yami suddenly let out a long breath, and began to speak. "It's just… it seems odd to me." He rested his head on the cool glass beside him. "The world has grown so much larger since my time, so much better… and yet… so much worse."

"The world is always changing." A shrug from Kaiba. "You learn to deal with it and move on. If you don't, you die. Simple as that."

"What a pleasant ideology." His attendant's tone was sarcastic.

"I make no illusions as to my being _'pleasant'_, Mouto. Even you should know me better than that."

"Hn." A perfect, neutral, unrevealing noise.

Another hush. The rain kept falling outside, a light tap-tapping on the windowpane.

"Good thing you've got a car, ne?" Yami's voice was vague.

A nod from Kaiba. "Yes, it's still raining."

"I don't… it's raining here – pouring -; while in central Eurasia wildfires are sweeping across acres of forestland. Western Europe has floods and landslides, and Africa is wracked with drought. Oceania is suffering great tidal waves, and the Americas are being slowly torn apart by tornados and hurricanes." Another sigh, yet another glance out the window to what – Kaiba's mind rather cynically suggested – must be a _fascinating_ view. "Why is all this happening now?"

"You're asking _me_?" Kaiba laughed, bitterly and without amusement. "I know as much as you."

"I…" Yami struggled with himself, and the words clearly tugging at his heart. "I want to go home."

The sentence was loaded. Go 'home'? Go _where? _Yami was already home… Yami was a part of Yugi and didn't really exist outside of that relationship, and Yugi belonged to Japan so therefore Yami did too and so Yami couldn't go anywhere. Yami couldn't go. Not now. Not ever. Not yet.

"What are you talking about?" Kaiba feigned ignorance. "You're already home."

Crimson eyes, damningly _knowing_, looked at him.

Kaiba – desperately – kept up his charade. "You live here! You can't just…_up_ and go away!" If Yami was to leave… Yami had been a stable part of his life! Everything was always _changing_, hadn't he just said that? But Yami, _Yami…_ Kaiba hated to admit it, but the sudden loss of his duelling rival would be –

"'Live'?" Yami took the word, musing over it quietly as he moved his gaze back to the world outside the window. "What an odd word to use…" Kaiba was just thankful god's eyes had moved away from him… "How does one… _'live', _exactly? I have no breath of my own, no blood or flesh or bones to keep me steady. I… _reside _here, a guest within a host within a building of bricks of mortar."

"Stop speaking garbage." Kaiba's words were blunt – _harsh._ His tone was cruel, dismissing everything his spirit companion said as nonsense, rubbish. But the meaning…the meaning lurking in down in the shadowed depths of cold blue eyes and hidden heart was that of a small child's plea, curled in a dark corner rocking back and forth, back and forth, crying and screaming _'stop it!' _with their hands pressed tightly over their ears.

Yami looked at Kaiba once more, and once more Kaiba felt unsettlingly bare. Silence… silence…_ silence…_ It was worse than the words – almost.

Eventually – _thoughtfully:_ "I'm sorry."

Kaiba's lip curled, and he was up and out of his seat in a flash, his anger blazing. Hot fury was easier to deal with then the confusion in his heart; he was better accustomed to it. His rage… it was at everything, at Yami's condescension to pity him, at the fact the other would even _dare_ to lower himself to apologise for it _afterwards, _at_ himself…_ "I'm leaving now." The brunette ground the words out through clenched teeth. "Mokuba's coming with me."

Yami didn't say a word as the taller male stormed out, slamming the door behind him. He just looked.

Marik saw Kaiba whirl down the stairs in a cloud of indignation and anger, and wisely kept out of the way. For Kaiba to be so infuriated… so angry… it had to be Yami. The pharaoh was out.

Abandoning his blanket Marik quietly went upstairs to Yugi's room, his actions hidden from the others by the fuss Kaiba was creating fetching his brother and stalking out the front door. The blonde was only partially aware of the fact he was tracing the footsteps the CEO had made less than half an hour previously, but he didn't care.

Cautiously, hesitantly, Marik knocked on the bedroom door marked 'Yugi' in brightly coloured kanji. A muffled 'Come in' was his response. Yami waited inside, glancing blandly at the other Egyptian when he entered with a mild curiosity.

Marik took a deep breath. "Pharaoh," he started, "I've been told to offer you my help."

* * *

**Shadow: **Why do I always get the end-notes…? (shrugs) Ah well. I don't have much to say here, as I think 'Kari and I covered everything important up at the top.

And though probably no-one will understand this statement but 'nee-chan – actually, I was reading _darkshipping_ when I wrote that bit. (laughter) Maybe my mind was in revolt?

Another note: why does this site INSIST on keeping screwing up my formatting???!!


End file.
